


Thoughts

by LadyBrooke



Series: Fëanorian Week [5]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 07:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10431876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Curufin loves his son and hates his thoughts.7 related drabbles





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fëanorian Week on Tumblr

**Childhood**

He is the second Curufinwë, according to his father, and Little Father, according to his mother.

It is widely agreed that his name means that he is his father’s favorite son, the one most similar in temperament and skill to him.

It is widely ignored that his mother and father are splintering apart by the time he is born, and little father is hardly a good name if she does not like his father much anymore, right?

He wonders that in his bed at night sometimes.

Wondering if their mothers loved them is another similarity he has with his father.

**Fëanor**

His father loves all his sons, but he seems to know that Curufinwë is the most in need of reassurance.

He is the only one to pick up on the doubts and not immediately reassure him that he is wrong (he wonders if grandfather did that to father, so he knows that the lies to reassure hurt more than the initial doubts and comments).

He lets Curufinwë sit with him in silence, both of them sketching drawings of their own projects until Curufinwë is old enough to go with his brothers into the forests.

He needs companionship, no matter when.

**Forge work**

The forge is relaxing. The noises overwhelm everything else, including his own thoughts, and he is free to lose himself in either the delicate work for jewelry or the pounding work of swords and tools. He likes having to focus on one thing and one thing only, without the ability to think of anything else.

It is freedom – from his other responsibilities to his father and the Noldor, from his brothers who will not step foot in his forge, from his own thoughts.

His mind races now, and he does not know if it will ever stop outside his work.

**Celebrimbor**

He loves his son.

There’s a part of him that is glad, so glad, when Celebrimbor renounces him and their family and leaves. If he stays in Nargothrond with Orodreth, he won’t be in as much danger. Orodreth will shelter him, and tell Fingon how he is if Fingon asks, and Fingon will tell the rest of them.  

Curufin never sees his son again, but Fingon’s last letter to Maedhros mentions that he has gone with Gil-galad to Falas, to protect Gil-galad if need be.

He breathes easier at that.

Morgoth will not attack there until everywhere else is conquered.

**Manipulation**

He learns to twist words when he is barely a toddler.

There is little notice to be paid to any more princes of the Noldor, even the favored son of the crown prince. When people do pay attention, they tend to comment on how Celegorm likes the wilderness too much or how Caranthir’s temperament is entirely unsuitable.

Those people are easy to distract, to twist their words around until they feel bad for what they said.

He should feel bad for twisting them until they don’t know what they meant, but he doesn’t.

He loves his brothers too much to.  

**Ruling**

He never expected to rule anything.

Even if Grandfather had stepped down eventually, it would have been Father first, then Maedhros, then the rest of his brothers and any children they had, before finally passing to him. It was unthinkable to imagine that many members of his family abdicating, even if they lived for Ages uncounted.

 And then Grandfather died, and Father, and Maedhros abdicated the Kingship but they still had their own realms to rule.

He was never ready for this. What did he know of kingdoms and people, defense and paperwork?

He was a prince, not a ruler.

**of Nargothrond**

Curufin is afraid that Orodreth is more similar to him than he expected. Aegnor and Angrod were bold, attacking the orcs at any opportunity. Finrod wanted to believe the best of everybody.

Orodreth is different. He approaches them in the halls without flinching and Curufin has heard the words he speaks – strong enough to stick in people’s heads, weak enough that they won’t realize what Orodreth is really saying.

He cannot afford to lose another home, but he has overplayed himself.

Orodreth smiles as he has them escorted from Nargothrond.

It’s almost a pity that they were never friends before.

**Author's Note:**

> Writing Curufin was like pulling teeth, compared to the other stories.


End file.
